


PAST PATIENTLY WAITING

by laurelcastillos



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 11:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6050857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelcastillos/pseuds/laurelcastillos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a hamilton boarding school au. sorry, i would write a better summary, but i just woke up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy!

One of the social workers, a middle-aged and slender woman with obviously dyed red hair, drops Alexander off at the elaborate gate of the boarding school, not bothering to turn down her blasting country music. Biting back a groan at the twanging guitars and Southern-tinged voice singing about love or trucks or loving trucks or maybe a positively winning combination of all three, Hamilton bids his social worker farewell, although he's sure she can't hear it over her country music, and opens the trunk of the car, pulling out the single suitcase that contains pretty much everything he owns.

Rolling it in the direction of the boarding school, he fiddles with the lock for a few moments before he realizes that it's useless. He presses a button on the speaker, biting back a smile as he says, "Um, hi. I'm Alexander Hamilton. I'm new here. Someone's supposed to show me to my dorm?" A few minutes pass, and Alexander almost contemplates breaking into the building when a beaming blonde girl shows up at the gate, practically bursting at the seams with excitement.

 

"Hi there! I'm Caroline Wyndham, and I'm your guide for today. It's so great to meet you, Alexander! We've all heard so much about you." She's practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she opens the gate, and Hamilton steps beside her, gazing at the school's gorgeous exterior with wonder.

 

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Caroline whispers, as if reading his mind, and he nods, following her into the building. Caroline begins to speak again, and she talks so quickly that he can barely keep up with her. "So your roommate's Aaron Burr. He's kind of a snob, but he's cute, so whatever. Your dorm is pretty big - well, all the dorms are. Dinner is at six!" After a few minutes, they reach his dorm, and, by then, he's already learned about her relationship troubles, her early childhood in the Upper East Side, her favorite movie (it's Titanic or maybe The Notebook), and her dog's name (it's Lily, and she's a Golden Retriever, and, as seen from Caroline's lock screen, she's very adorable).

 

"I'll see you soon, Alex!" she practically squeals, and a dark-skinned boy around Alexander's age comes to the door, biting back a yawn. There are bags under his eyes, and he's clad in sweatpants and a tightly fitted tank top that Alexander can't help peek a few glances at. _Is that Aaron?_

 

"So you're the new boy," his roommate says, his voice low and bored. "I'm Aaron. Come in, I guess." Caroline gives Aaron a wave, and Aaron gives her a half-smile before shutting the door, leaving him and Alexander alone in their luxurious dorm. Alexander glances around, his dark eyes widening and his jaw dropping.

 

"Whoa," he whispers, thinking that Aaron can't hear him - until, that is, Aaron laughs, taking a seat on the bed and opening up his laptop. Glancing over his shoulder, Alexander catches a brief peek of his computer background, a picture of a lovely Chinese girl with her hair in a fishtail braid and her smile wide, but, before he can tear his eyes away, Aaron catches him looking and visibly resists the urge to roll his eyes, opening up an essay instead and getting to work on it. He hates me. I can tell.

Alexander unzips his suitcase, swiftly unpacking its contents. Several versions of his uniform pieces, a few sweatpants and t-shirts for pajamas, some jeans and sweaters, his cell phone and laptop, his boring toiletries, and, of course, his books and journals. Those are what weigh the bag down, and Aaron glances up from his essay to find Alexander attempting to neatly pile a collection of biographies on the spare desk.

 

"That's a lot of books, new boy," he comments, his tone as bored as ever, before returning to his essay. Alexander nods and grins, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, I love to read. I just got this new biography; it's about-" When he snaps from his reverie, he looks back at Aaron and finds that he's not paying any attention at all. "Oh," he says softly, his voice dejected. He finishes organizing his beloved books and then grabs his latest read, _The Prince_ by Machiavelli, and nestles beneath the sheets of his new bed, getting comfortable in his new home as he immerses himself in European politics.

Several minutes of silence pass, the only sound in their dorm Aaron's typing and the soft rustling and turning of the pages in Alexander's book, until, finally, Aaron speaks again. "What are you reading?" he asks, saving his essay and setting his computer aside. He looks at Alexander, dark eyes expectant and waiting.

“It’s The Prince by Machiavelli. I just think it’s so intriguing how Machiavelli was able to give this amazing, clever advice in such a succinct work, but how it was still persuasive, and how-”

Aaron, cuts him off, clearly bored again. “Maybe you should take his advice and be a bit more succinct.”

Alexander flushes, his gaze dropping to the ground. What’s wrong with this guy? He’s trying to be his friend, but all he’s doing is shooting him down.

Aaron softens. “Hey, dude, I’m not trying to be an asshole. All I’m saying is that, here, running your mouth off doesn’t make you many friends.” He places a hand on Alexander’s elbow. “You want to hear my advice?” He leans closer to Alexander, as if he’s divulging the world’s biggest secret. “Talk less, smile more.”

Alexander laughs - he can’t help it. That’s the worst advice he’s ever heard. Where the fuck is that going to take him in life?

Aaron, though, is apparently unruffled by his amusement. “You want to get ahead?”

“Yes?” Who doesn’t?

“Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.” Before Alexander has any time to ponder that enigmatic advice, there’s a crash, then a shout and a peal of laughter, from outside their room.

“What time is it?” calls a drunken male voice, his friends shouting back, “Showtime, showtime!”

Rolling his eyes, Aaron stands, walking towards the door and pulling it open. Glancing over his shoulders, he shakes his head and whispers, “Like I said,” before shouting to the guys in the hallway, “Can you keep it down out there? Some people are trying to study, you know.”

The most beautiful person Alexander’s ever seen strolls into their room, his dark curls pulled back and his olive skin dotted with adorable freckles. Throwing an arm around Aaron, he exclaims, “Burr, my man, you need to calm down. Try some yoga or that shit. Your stress levels are so high. It’s ruining my new-semester good vibes, dude.” He catches a glimpse of Alexander and grins, striding over to him and throwing an arm around him, pulling him into a warm embrace so affectionate Alexander wants to cry. No one has ever touched him like this before. Sure, he’s felt hands pushing him around, slapping the shit around him, but never a single soul other than his mother touching him with something like affection behind their touch.

“Who are you?” he questions.

  
“Alexander Hamilton,” he replies, succinct for once in his life. “And you?”

“John Laurens in the place to be - or, you know, Lennox Academy.” He throws back his head and laughs. _God, he’s so beautiful._ “You Burr’s roommate?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Maybe you can loosen him up a little bit, dude.”

“I’ll try.” He smiles, slow and tentative, and John laughs, tightening his arm around his shoulders. “I like you already.” He’s so beautiful that Alexander doesn’t catch what he says next, his focus on John and his gorgeous eyes and his goddamn smile, so sweet and open and real. When he snaps out of his reverie, John is staring at him expectantly.

“Um, I’m sorry, what? I didn’t hear anything you just said.”

Goddamn John laughs that beautiful laugh again. “You want to sit with us at dinner?”

“Who’s us?”

“You’ll find out.” He grins widely. “They’ll love you.”

“I hope so.”

John grins widely, squeezing Alexander’s shoulder. “You want to go now?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, of course, dude! There’s a slice of pizza down there with your name on it!” Before Alexander can reply, John is grabbing his hand and pulling him past Burr and through the hallway and down the stairs and into the cafeteria.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eliza meets hamilton! we're also introduced to most of the hamilton ladies.

When she lays eyes on him, throwing back his head in a moment of laughter and his arm around one of her many friends, John Laurens, Eliza Schuyler knows that the new boy is the one. First of all, he’s  _ gorgeous,  _ which, of course, isn’t important as being a kind person or being intelligent, but Eliza would be lying if she said it wasn’t important at all to her. And he’s a  _ genius _ . She heard from Theodosia Barstow, her lab partner for AP Biology, that his admissions essay was one of the best that the school has ever received. And she would know - her father is on the school board.

“Eliza?” Hearing her older sister’s vaguely irritated voice in the distance, even though Angelica is standing right by her side as usual, Eliza tears her eyes away from the new boy and smiles sweetly at her older sister. “Yeah, what is it?”

Angelica sighs, but it’s a good-natured sound. She takes her usual seat in the center of the cafeteria, taking a small bite of her salad before looking back up at her sister. “I said, did you finish the French winter break assignment yet?”

Eliza nods, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Yeah.” In fact, in typical Eliza fashion, she completed it on the first day of break, locking herself in her dorm all day and stressing over verb conjugations while her roommate, Maria Reynolds, partied the hours away. Not that she’s judging her, of  course, she adores Maria.

“I’m going to go grab something for lunch,” Eliza announces, rising to her feet and smiling widely at her youngest sister, little Peggy, who is a nervous, wide-eyed freshman. “Come with, Peggy?”

Peggy nods, following her sister towards the lunch line and talking a mile a minute about her new favorite artist, Frida Kahlo. Eliza allows herself to focus on what her sister is saying, becoming so interested in the topic that she doesn’t notice the new boy walking right by her, carrying a tray full of food. She knocks shoulders with him and they both lose their balance, Eliza managing to right herself quickly by grabbing a nearby chair but the poor new boy falling to the ground and dropping his food, the floor quickly become a mess of lettuce and various vegetables and salad dressing.

Eliza gasps, dropping to her knees and beginning to clean up the mess. “Oh, I’m so sorry about that! I totally wasn’t looking where I was going. Let me buy that for you again to make it up to you. What did you order?”

The new boy shakes his head so vehemently that Eliza is surprised that it doesn’t just fall off his neck. “No, please don’t feel like you have to buy something for me. I’ll buy it myself. It’s fine, really.” He slowly picks pieces of lettuce off his t-shirt, and Eliza feels so bad for him that she grabs a spare napkin and begins wiping his shirt off herself, doing it with surprising efficiency until his shirt is something close to clean again.

“Really, let me buy it for you, I insist. It’s not a problem for me,” Eliza says sweetly. His dark eyes narrow, but he shrugs a shoulder before nodding. Eliza grins cheerfully, strolling up to the lunch line and standing at the end, behind Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, two seniors she doesn’t know very well but has definitely heard a lot about - some good, some bad. Well, a  _ lot  _ bad and most of the good perpetuated by the two boys themselves, but Eliza has never been one to dwell on the negative.

“You’re the new boy, right? We’ve heard so much about you. It’s so great to have you here,” Eliza enthuses, beaming at him.

The boy laughs, smoothing down his shirt. “It’s Alexander, but  _ new boy  _ works, too.” Eliza blushes, averting her gaze, and he smiles. “What’s your name?”

“Eliza Schuyler. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She turns, taking Peggy by the hand and adding, “And this is Peggy, my sister. Well, one of my sisters.”

Alexander extends a hand to Eliza, and she can’t help but think that she hasn’t shaken the hand of someone under fifty in probably years as she shakes his hand. He’s got a firm but gentle grasp, and his hands are rather nice, too.

“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you also,” he says in response, barely suppressing a smile. “What grade are you two in?”

“I’m a junior, and Peggy’s just a wee freshman.” Peggy scowls, punching her arm lightly, and Alexander laughs that beautiful laugh once again, flashing a flirtatious grin at Eliza. She blushes bright red, averting her gaze, but thankfully, before either of them can speak again, they’re mercifully interrupted by John Laurens, who throws an arm around her shoulders in his usual friendly manner, no romance behind it at all. 

“Eliza!” he exclaims, pulling her into a tight embrace before pulling back to look at her, eyes sparkling like those of a proud father, even though he’s two months younger than her. “Good to see you, girl. I’ve missed you. You gotta get out of that cocoon of yours more often.”

Eliza blushes, not looking at Alexander for fear that her feelings for him will show from her lovelorn gaze. “I’m sorry, John, I’ve just been so busy with schoolwork lately, but I’ll make an appearance at your party tonight, I promise.”

“Good.” He squeezes her shoulder before turning to Alexander, smile wide as always. “You coming, Alex?”

Suddenly, he’s awkward and fidgety, and he’s more adorable than ever, and,  _ God _ , she’s down for the count. “I, um, I’ve never been to a party before. But okay. Where is this party, uh, being held?”

“Off campus at my place. You in?” He smiles widely at Alexander, but Eliza is all too focused on how goddamn cute Alexander is to see the obvious sexual tension blooming between the new boy and her friend.

“Um, I guess,” Alexander says softly, glancing over at Eliza and smiling at her. “I’ll see you there, Eliza. It was great meeting you.” 

As Eliza orders her lunch, her head is so full of thoughts of Alexander that she forgets what she wanted to eat and humiliatingly blanks in front of the lunch lady, her eyes wide and confused until the woman repeats, “What would you like on your salad?”

“Um, grilled chicken, tomatoes, and croutons,” Eliza replies, her cheeks flushed, although the blushing is caused more by cheesy and hopelessly romantic thoughts of Alexander than her current awkward situation. Paying for the salad and thanking the lunch lady, she practically floats on air as she walks back to her table, something that does not escape her observant older sister.

“Girl, what’s gotten into you?” Angelica says with a laugh, spearing a piece of chicken on her fork and taking a bite out of it. “Your head is in the clouds and you’re all moony-eyed. This isn’t my Eliza.”

“It’s the new boy,” Maria Reynolds cuts in, applying red lipstick to her pursed lips. “Have you seen him? He’s gorgeous.”

Angelica, in fact, has noticed just how breathtaking Alexander Hamilton is, and has also heard how brilliant he is, but she’s seen plenty of boys like him. Beautiful and intelligent, yes, but also manipulative, ruthless, and cunning. He’s the type of boy who will do whatever it takes to succeed, and she doesn’t want that type of boy for her sweet younger sister, who’s so innocent and gentle and trusting that anyone could hurt her. “Yes, I’ve seen him,” she replies shortly, taking another bite out of her chicken before setting the fork aside. “Boys like him aren’t rare here. Gorgeous and intelligent, yes, but also ruthless and manipulative.”

“Ruthless?” Peggy giggles, dipping her French fry in ketchup. God, she hadn’t even noticed that Peggy was there. “He was all nervous with Eliza. He’s so awkward; it’s great.”

Angelica rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, leaning back in her chair. Directing her sharp gaze towards Eliza, her features soften, and she reaches out and squeezes her hand. “Fine, but be careful with that one, Eliza. He will do what it takes to survive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this! hamilton's going to meet the hamilsquad in the next chapter - trust me, it'll be #lit.


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the #hamilsquad is introduced and a party happens.

Alexander and John make their way to the lunch table, John talking a mile a minute about someone’s relationship drama, and, while Alexander isn’t exactly interested in who’s screwing who, he can’t help but be entranced by John’s voice, its cadence and rises and falls. Soon enough, however, they’ve reached the lunch table, populated by a tall black boy clad in an intricately designed blue button-down and jeans and a slender brunette with his hair tied up out of his face, and John’s arm is back around him, and he’s soaring on air again at John’s touch, although the memory of Eliza, of her sweet and pretty face and her adorable mannerisms, still lingers in the back of his mind.

“John!” the taller of the two crows, punching John’s shoulder with the utmost affection. “Where were you?”

“And who’s this kid?” the brunette questions, his accent thick and obviously French. Alexander blushes at being called a kid and blushes even harder as both boys turn to look at him.

“His name is Alexander Hamilton, and he’s new, so don’t be too much a shit to him, alright?”

“Will do,” the French boy sighs, taking a bite of his hamburger.

“Alex, that dashing French fellow is our resident exchange student, Lafayette, and the stylish giant is Hercules Mulligan, although he prefers to be called Mulligan.”

“You can call me Hercules if you’re my grandmother or if you’re feeling the need to get punched,” Mulligan clarifies, stealing one of Lafayette’s French fries and dipping it in ketchup. “Sit, both of you.”

Laurens takes a seat between Lafayette and Mulligan, clearly at home with them, and Alexander lingers and hesitates before taking a seat across from them, setting his salad and water bottle down and flinching when Mulligan rolls his eyes at him.

“Come over here, Alex! There’s plenty of room.”  _ Oh _ . So Mulligan doesn’t hate him. Biting his lower lip, Alexander moves his food over to the other side of the table, taking a seat beside John and being very much aware of the fact that his knee is pressed up against the other boy’s.

“Has he met Eliza yet?” Mulligan asks John, stealing another fry from a scowling Lafayette.

“Yeah, and she’s totally crushing on him,” John says with a laugh, biting into his sandwich. 

“Way to go, Alex! First day here and you’re already getting the ladies,” Mulligan congratulates, holding out a hand for him to high-five.  _ But what if I don’t want to get the ladies? Or at least not only the ladies.  _ Still, he high-fives Mulligan, who’s still grinning and shaking his head.

“Man, you’re lucky. She’s a catch - gorgeous, smart, and sweet.”

“If you like her so much, why don’t you just date her?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out rudely, but it does, sharp and defensive and angry. Mulligan throws his head back and laughs, and Alexander feels like crawling under the table and making a home there.

“I could never date her. She’s like a little sister to me.”

“She’s three months older than you,” Lafayette points out, pushing his food away from Mulligan’s clutches. 

“Well, she’s shorter than me.” Lafayette rolls his eyes, but he’s obviously amused by Mulligan’s antics. Leaning closer to Alexander, he whispers, his voice still tinged by his accent, “Have you met Thomas and James yet?”

“No. Um, who are they?”

“The resident fuckboys,” John tells him, and Mulligan and Lafayette both burst into a fit of laughter as if it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. “They’re probably going to be in a bunch of your classes. Look out for them. They’ll act like your friends, but then they’ll turn on you.”

_ Wow _ . Clearly, John has some unresolved issues with Thomas and James, whoever the hell they are. Before Alexander can reply, he’s interrupted by Mulligan whispering, “Here they come! Don’t look them in the eye. That’s how they get you.”

What are they, Medusa? Still, Alexander keeps his eyes on the pair moving across the cafeteria. They’re both impressively tall, but one, who’s coughing into a napkin and looking as if he’s about to pass out, is clearly the shadow, the sidekick. The other one has an impressive afro and a gaze that seems to cut to the core, and he’s walking closer and closer to them. Alexander shrinks and moves closer to John, feeling uncomfortable by the boy’s gaze fixed on him.

“So you’re the new boy,” the one with the cutting stare says bluntly to Alexander. “Let me offer you my  _ warmest  _ welcome to Lennox Academy. My name is Thomas Jefferson, but I’m sure you already know that. It’s really a pleasure to have you here.” His tone is saccharinely sweet, and it makes Alexander want to hide, but, bravely, he stares Thomas straight in the face and replies, “Well, it’s a  _ pleasure  _ to meet you, Thomas. Alexander Hamilton.” He extends a hand to Thomas, and Thomas stares at it as if it’s a dead fish before offering him a limp handshake. Turning his cutting gaze to John, he says shortly, “John.”

“Thomas.” 

“I heard that you’re having a party tonight.”

“You’re right about that, Thomas. Do you want an award?”

Thomas gives him a half-smile. “What about an invitation?”

“So we’re best buddies now? Good to know that.”

“Oh, of course not. But I never miss a party.”

“Then I’ll see you there, dear Thomas.”

“Thank you so much for the invitation, dear John.” He flashes a wide, blindingly white smile at John before turning and walking away, his hand on James’s arm as he begins to cough loudly.

“Does James speak?” Alexander questions, raising an eyebrow. “Or does he just cough?”

John laughs, but it’s soft and hesitant. “He talks sometimes. I kind of feel bad for the guy. He’s always sick, and he has to play second fiddle to Thomas fucking Jefferson.”

“Doesn’t he have other friends?”

“Yeah, of course, but he’s, how you say, head over feet for Thomas,” Lafayette interjects. 

“Head over  _ heels _ ,” Mulligan corrects, and Lafayette elbows him in the ribs, leading to Mulligan clutching his ribs like he’s been shot. 

“Shut your mouth,” Lafayette says with a scowl. “I was very close.”

“Sure you were,” Mulligan laughs, and Lafayette elbows him again. “ _ Man _ , you’ve got sharp elbows.” Mulligan rubs his side, grinning widely.

John turns to Alexander, biting back a smile. “So there you have it. My best friends.”

“I - you’re sure they like me?” Alexander asks doubtfully.

“Yes, of course we like you,” Lafayette cuts in before returning to elbowing Mulligan. Alexander shakes his head and laughs, his gaze still on beautiful, beautiful John.

***

“Peggy, I’m sorry, but you just can’t go.” Angelica is attempting to convince Peggy, innocent little Peggy, to stay home instead of attending John’s party, but she’s simply not having it.

“Angelica,” she complains, “come  _ on _ . You and Eliza are going. All of my friends are going. Why can’t I go?”

“We just don’t want you to get hurt,” Eliza tells her softly, smoothing back her hair. “We’ll tell you all about it when we get back, okay? And, if you really want to, you can go to the next party.”

Does it always have to be good cop, bad cop with Eliza and her? Still, it works, Peggy sighing but nodding. “I want all the gossip. Every last detail,” she warns, wagging a finger at the two of them. 

“Of course,” Eliza replies, pressing a kiss to Peggy’s forehead before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind her.

“God, how do you do it?” Angelica sighs, following her down the hallway to her dorm and pulling open the door, surprised to find Maria Reynolds standing there in only a scarlet bra and matching panties. Tactfully, Angelica averts her gaze, and Eliza does the same. Maria laughs, pulling a tight black dress and matching shoes on, and clears her throat. “Go ahead and look now.”

Angelica glances up, and she’s struck by how pretty Maria is in her little black dress. “Damn, you look good!” she compliments, heading towards Eliza’s closet and pulling out two dresses - one scarlet and short, one a soft blue and longer.

“Take your pick,” she says to Eliza, despite the fact that she knows that Eliza will choose the blue one. Sure enough, the younger girl’s manicured hand reaches out and grabs the blue dress, and Angelica’s left with the little red dress. Unbuttoning her top quickly and sliding off her jeans, she pulls on the red dress, zipping it up with deft fingers and turning around to find her poor sister struggling with the zipper of her dress.

“Zipper?” Eliza asks softly, voice tinged with embarrassment. Angelica doesn’t say a word, just holds Eliza’s dark curls away from the zipper with one hand and zips the dress up with the other. Turning around, Eliza smiles her radiant smile at her older sister. “Thanks so much, Angie. Let’s go.”

“Yeah, of course. You coming with?” she calls to Maria, who is doing her makeup in the mirror. After dusting her cheeks with blush, she nods, letting out a laugh. “Hells yeah, I’m coming with. I never miss a party.”

“Good to know,” Angelica laughs, linking arms with Eliza. “Let’s get going, girls.”

***

Aaron Burr generally considers himself above fumbling about in dark bedrooms just to kiss a girl, but, for Theodosia, he’ll give anything a go just to be with her, to kiss her soft, sweet, perfect lips, to hold her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against her soft, fair skin, his thumb stroking her cheek gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” comes her gentle voice, and, even though he can’t see her, he knows she’s smiling, just knows it. “Now come on. This shirt won’t take itself off.” He laughs, sliding the blouse over her head and setting it aside, leaning in to kiss her again just as the door slowly creaks open and blinding light fills the room. Theodosia covers herself with her blouse, blushing deeply, and Aaron is on his feet as soon as he realizes who it is. Alexander fucking Hamilton. Can’t he just mind his goddamn business?

“Aaron! I’m so sorry - I didn’t know anyone was in here - I was just looking for a bathroom, that’s all. I’ll go. I’m sorry.”

Before Alexander can leave, he grabs him by the arm. “Alexander, don’t tell anyone what you just saw. Please,  _ please _ do that for me.”

“I - why?”

“Just do it, Alex.  _ Go _ .” He pushes him out the door, slamming it behind him, and Alexander finds himself running into a tall, dark-skinned girl in the tiniest red dress he’s seen, and he can’t help but stare at her long legs and then, looking into her eyes, notice her strong resemblance to Eliza.

“So you’re the new boy everyone’s been talking about,” she says with a sigh, dark eyes examining him in a way that makes him feel both uncomfortable and a bit aroused.  _ God, she’s beautiful. _

“Um, yeah. Alexander Hamilton. And you’re Eliza’s sister.”

She raises a dark eyebrows. “Alexander. Good to meet you. And, yes, I am Eliza’s sister. Angelica, actually.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” Why did he just say that? Thankfully, she smiles at him before saying, “Thank you. You’re lucky I’m a little drunk right now, or else I would have punched you for that.” She extends a hand to him. “Let’s go downstairs. My sister is dying to dance with you.”

Alexander raises an eyebrow as the two of them walk downstairs together. “She actually said that?”   
“No, of course not, but I can tell. A sister knows these things, Alex. She’s been moony-eyed all day over you.”

“I - really?”

“Will you ever believe me? Yes, Alex, she’s head-over-heels for you, and everyone can tell.” They’re downstairs now, and the music, some pop song about someone being irresistible, is thrumming, making the room shake. Eliza stands near the wall, looking lovely and terrified in a long blue dress, and Angelica rolls her eyes lovingly before running over to Eliza. They stand next to each other, whispering in each other’s ears, for several moments until, at last, Eliza approaches him shyly, her eyes downcast and her cheeks red.

Alexander takes her hand gently, looking into her eyes. “Hey there, Eliza.”

“Hi,” she whispers as the song changes to some slow, romantic Ed Sheeran song. “It’s good to see you. You look good.”

“You look better than good.”

She blushes harder, resting her arms around his shoulders. “You’re very kind.”

Before he can respond, John Laurens breezes by, raising an eyebrow at their closeness before approaching them, wrapping Eliza up in a hug. “Eliza! Good to see you.”

“I just saw you a few hours ago,” she laughs, but she hugs him back before returning to Alexander’s side, reaching for his hand again. She can’t help but notice his gaze fixated on John, and she blushes.  _ Oh. Does he like him? _

“Alex! Glad you made it.” John claps Alexander on the shoulder, smiling warmly at him,

“I - yeah - um, thanks,” Alexander stutters, and John and Eliza both laugh. “I’ll leave you to your girl,” John says with a wink, jetting off in the direction of Lafayette and Mulligan.

Alexander takes Eliza’s hand again and they dance, her eyes on him and his eyes off in a dream.  _ I love him. I love him, and he’s into John. _

When the song is over, Alexander doesn’t let go of Eliza, his arm still around her, and Eliza isn’t certain if he’s actually paying attention anymore. When she looks up at him, she’s surprised to find his eyes on her instead of off in a dream. He lifts a hand to her cheek and whispers, “You’re a good dancer.”

She smiles softly. “Yeah? You are, too.”

“Not as good as you.” She leans in, and, just as their lips are about to touch, Angelica rushes up to the two of them, worry evident in her dark brown eyes.

“Eliza! Peggy just called me. She’s throwing up.”

All thoughts of kissing leave her mind, and she’s instantly filled with worry for poor, sweet Peggy. “Oh, no. Poor baby. We have to go take care of her.” She glances towards Alexander. “Sorry, Alex. We’ll dance again another time.”

“I can come, if you want me to. If you, uh, need any help.” Angelica raises an eyebrow, but Eliza’s heart is soaring. What a sweet boy.

“Of course you can come. We’d be happy for the help,” Eliza tells him, taking his hand and then taking Angelica’s. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this!


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which alexander hamilton writes like he's running out of time.

Peggy’s black curls are bunched up in Alexander's hand as she leans over the toilet, throwing up for what seems like the millionth time in just a few minutes. Gasping, she reaches for the bottle of water resting on the sink, uncapping it and taking a long sip of the cool liquid before she says to Alexander ruefully, “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. I don’t know what happened. Maybe food poisoning or something?”

Alexander shakes his head, patting her shoulder awkwardly as she slumps to the ground, her back pressed against the door as she downs the rest of her water bottle. “It’s fine. It’s not your fault.”

Eliza tiptoes towards the bathroom, smiling softly at Alexander and letting her manicured hand rest against his elbow, her touch casual yet so gentle. “How’s Peggy doing?”

“Better,” he replies. Have her eyes always been this beautiful? Has  _ she  _ always been this beautiful?

Eliza moves past him, sitting beside her younger sister and putting her arm around her. “Hi, baby. How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay. I just need to get some rest and drink some water.”

“Good idea.” Eliza beams at her sister, helping her up. “Does anything else hurt?”

“My head, a little. Do you have Tylenol?”

“Yeah.” After tucking Peggy into bed like she’s five years old, Eliza roots around in her bag for a container of Tylenol, and Alexander watches her silently, feeling totally useless.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks Angelica softly, moving in closer to her.

“Just stay here,” she replies, her voice almost gentle as she reaches out and touches his shoulder. “Having you here makes Eliza feel less stressed.”

Alexander almost smiles at that, but his smile falters as he takes a glance towards Peggy and sees just how sick the poor freshman looks. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Of course. She just gets sick often, that’s all.” There’s still worry evident in Angelica’s dark eyes, and he reaches over, brushing a hand across her shoulder so lightly that she doesn’t even react to it. But, a few moments later, he sees some of the tenseness leave her, her shoulders relaxing and the sadness leaving her eyes, and he smiles, looking back towards Eliza, who’s fussing over a sleeping, peaceful Peggy.

Angelica strides up to her, whispering something in her sister’s ear. Eliza nods after a moment, pulling herself to her feet and slowly walking over to Alexander, a soft, shy smile tugging at the corners of her pale pink lips. When she reaches him, she’s looking up at him with those dark, sweet eyes, and she’s asking him softly, “Walk back to my dorm with me?”

He nods, giving a wave to Angelica, who looks something akin to hurt at their closeness but doesn’t say a word, smiling thinly before returning to caring for Peggy.

For most of the rather long walk to Eliza’s dorm room, the two of them are entirely silent, not daring to touch or get any closer. However, once they reach Eliza’s dorm room, Alexander is the first one to speak.

“I’ll see you soon, Eliza.”

She beams at him, nodding. “Yeah! I’ll see you-” Before she can finish her sentence, his hands are cupping her face and he’s leaning down and they’re  _ kissing _ and, God, they’re actually, really kissing, and her hands are caught in his hair and his hands are still cool and soft against her cheeks and-

“Alexander!” a voice exclaims, and they’re pulling apart, glancing furtively about like they’ve just been caught robbing a bank, but it’s only John Laurens, the look in his eyes hurt but his smile wide as he pulls both of them into a tight, warm embrace.

“I knew this was going to happen,” John says with a laugh, and all the smiles and laughter in the world can’t hide the heartbroken look in his eyes. God, she never meant to hurt poor John.

Alexander laughs, scratching the back of his neck, but his gaze is still on Eliza, his smile soft and gentle. “Sleep well, Eliza,” he says softly as he watches her head into her dorm, and soon he’s left alone with John, with his sweet smile and his heartbroken gaze, but he’s not seeing any of it, his mind full of thoughts of Eliza.

“I’ll walk you to your dorm?” Before he can respond, John is already taking him by the hand and they’re walking towards Alexander’s dorm.

John laughs, throwing an arm around Alexander. “You’re lucky, man. Eliza is a great girl.”

“I - we’re not dating,” he manages.

“Yeah, not yet, but soon enough. You might want to watch out for her sister, though. I saw the way she was looking at you.”

“What way was she looking at me?” Alexander is genuinely confused, his dark eyebrows furrowed together, and John just laughs.

“She’s crushing on you, too! God, you’re a lucky dude.” Soon enough - far too soon - they’re standing at the door of Alexander’s dorm, and, before John can bid him farewell, Alexander is throwing his arms around John and pulling him into a long, tight embrace.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, is something wrong, Alex?” John questions, and, although he’s laughing against Alexander’s shirt, there’s genuine concern in his voice. “Someone die?”

“No.” Alexander pulls away, his cheeks flushed. “I just wanted to say thank you for being so nice to me today.”

“Yeah, of course.” Now John is blushing, too, averting his gaze and fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast?”

“Yeah,” he says as he watches John go, and he’s kicking himself for not asking him what time breakfast starts at and for not kissing him.

The door creaks open, and Aaron is looking at him with tired eyes. “Alexander?”

“Yeah, hi.” He turns to look at Aaron, who opens the door a little wider and says with a half-smile, “Well, don’t just stand there, come in.”

Alexander obliges, lingering silently by his own bed as he watches Aaron climb into his bed on the other side of the room, reaching for his cell phone and scrolling down before he stops on something that makes him smile. He’s just about to respond to it, but then he looks up at Alexander, and his smile vanishes.

“Could you stop standing there? You’re kind of creeping me out,” he says with a low laugh, returning to his phone as soon as he’s done with his sentence. Alexander is about to reply, but Aaron is already immersed in his phone, so he obliges, slipping into his bed and pulling out his laptop. He’s been working on an essay about institutionalized racism, specifically in the criminal justice system, for the past few weeks, and he’s dying to get some work done on it tonight, maybe even finish it up.

He’s on the last line of the essay, looking for a clever but succinct way to tie up all the loose ends and finish his thoughts, and Aaron is standing beside him, shaking his shoulder.

“ _ Alexander _ !” he snaps. “It’s three in the goddamn morning! Go the fuck to sleep!”

Three in the morning? That’s not  _ so  _ late. Still, he nods, although he can’t help but ask Aaron as he pulls the duvet over himself, “Why are you still up, then?”

“Because the fucking light from your computer is keeping me up, asshole. Why are you writing like you’re running out of time? Do you even have any essays due?” Before Alexander can answer, he shakes his head. “Good night.  _ Please _ get some sleep.”

***

Alexander does not take Aaron’s advice in getting some sleep. The minute Aaron falls asleep, he’s back at work on his essay, finally finding the perfect closing line for it and starting research for another essay as soon as he’s done with the first one. Soon enough, light is filling the room and, out in the hallway, he can hear people slowly making their way to breakfast, and he’s actually starting to feel tired. Setting the computer aside gently, his head drops against the pillow, and he’s out in less than five minutes. His sleep is dreamless, probably because he only sleeps for a total of two hours before Aaron wakes him up.

“Holy shit, you look tired,” Aaron comments, already dressed and ready to go to breakfast. “Did you take any of my advice?”

Alexander shakes his head ruefully, feeling slow and lethargic as he pulls himself out of bed, throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of pants that vaguely look like they match.

“Well, please get some sleep tonight, at least.” Alexander probably won’t, but he still nods to satisfy Aaron, who asks him, “You ready to go? I’m starving.” 

Finding that he’s just as starving, Alexander nods, making his way out into the hallway and bumping into, of all people, Thomas Jefferson, who’s stylishly dressed in a deep purple button-down and dark, tight jeans.

“Alexander,” Thomas says calmly once he’s brushed himself off. “Good morning to you.”

“You too,” Alexander says, his voice dripping with false kindness as he spots Angelica in the distance and all but runs to her, oblivious to the laughter of Thomas and James.

“Angelica!” he exclaims happily, but she glares at him and snaps, “So you kissed my sister?”

_ Shit _ . “I - uh - yeah?” Angelica laughs at his confused tone, although her eyes are still cold. “How’d you find out?”

“She tells me everything, Alex. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today, or else I’d beat the shit out of you for touching my baby sister.”

“You, um, don’t look like you’re in a good mood. No offense.”

“I’m actually in a wonderful mood,” she says with a bright smile, looping her arm through his and walking down the stairs with him, arm-in-arm like she didn’t just threaten to beat the shit out of him. Before she walks towards her table, she whispers in his ear, “Treat my sister well. Okay?”

God, she’s so close to him, her lips brushing against his skin. Still, he swallows his words and nods, watching as she walks away, hips swaying slightly with every step.

“So Angelica found out?” Alexander jumps and screams like he’s been shot, but it’s only John, who’s laughing hysterically.

“Shit, man, you okay?” he guffaws, grabbing Alexander by the arm and pulling him towards the quickly growing line for food.

Alexander nods, selecting a pile of pancakes, an apple, and a glass of chocolate milk. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

“Yeah, I can tell. Get some sleep tonight, okay?” His hand is on the small of Alexander’s back for the most fleeting of moments, and Alexander feels like crying at how gentle, how caring his touch is, but, soon enough, his hand is gone and they’re at the table from the day before, Lafayette and Mulligan laughing over something, their breakfasts both untouched.

“Good morning,” John says cheerfully to them, sitting beside Lafayette and patting the empty spot beside him, beckoning for Alexander to sit beside him. Alexander sways for a moment, his head pounding and his body aching from severe lack of sleep, and then goes to sit besides John, dropping his tray on the table and letting his head fall against John’s shoulder.

“God, you need to get some sleep,” John murmurs protectively, stroking Alexander’s dark hair as he eats a heaping spoonful of Cheerios and milk. “You’re making me tired just looking at your.”

Alexander doesn’t respond, just yawns loudly, stretching like a cat as he lifts his head off John’s shoulder and gingerly takes a bite out of his apple, his eyes on Aaron across the room, laughing with Thomas and James like they’re the best of friends. For a moment, he catches Aaron’s gaze, but the other boy does nothing, simply rolling his dark eyes as he leans in to whisper something to Thomas.

“Is Aaron like that with everyone?” Alexander asks the table.

“Cold? Standoffish?” Mulligan questions. “Yes, very much so. He’s not as bad as Thomas, but he’s kind of an asshole.”

“He’s very quiet. I just want to be his friend, but he’s not really a fan of me.” Alexander’s face falls, and Mulligan pats his shoulder comfortingly. “He’s not an awful guy,” Mulligan says with a shrug, “he just cares mostly about himself. But, if you leave him alone, he’ll leave you alone, and he’ll probably consider that mutual silence a better friendship than what he was with those two morons.” He nods his head towards Thomas and James.

John drums his long fingers on the table, deliberating a moment before turning to Alexander and asking him, “Are you going to join the debate team? Meetings start up again on Monday the twenty-second, and we’d love to have a new member.”

Of course he’d want to join the debate team. Arguing is Alexander’s main hobby. “Yeah, definitely. Who’s the president?”

Lafayette cuts in with, “Angelica Schuyler, thankfully. Thomas was supposed to be president, but he gave the position to Angelica because they are, how you say….” He trails off, and Alexander can’t tell what he’s trying to say until Mulligan elbows Lafayette and tells Alexander, “Fucking. Angelica and Thomas are fucking.”

“ _ What _ ?” Alexander nearly knocks over a water bottle in his shock. Angelica Schuyler, brilliant, loyal Angelica, is fucking that  _ bastard _ ? He has to be joking. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Unfortunately, no. But, anyway, Angelica’s a great president - far better than Thomas could ever be - and you should definitely join the debate team,” Mulligan tells him, and John rolls his eyes. “You’re not even on the debate team, Mulligan.”

Mulligan shrugs a shoulder, sipping his water. “Yeah, but I’m the debate team hype man.”

“If you say so.” John laughs, his gaze landing back on Alexander. “No, but he’s right. Angelica’s amazing, and we really need some new members. So what do you say?”

“I’m in,” Alexander announces, and all three of the boys cheer, piling on top of him in a vaguely uncomfortable but still fun group hug.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy this! school is starting up again for me on monday, so i probably won't be churning out chapters as quick as i have been next week.


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which alexander fights thomas jefferson and aaron burr. also, peggy is cute here as always.

Alexander stumbles in AP Biology, dark bags underneath his eyes and his head hung, and Eliza turns towards Aaron Burr, who’s immersed in reviewing his notes, and taps his shoulder gently.

“Aaron?” she says, her voice soft, and he looks up at her, a small smile on his face. “Did Alex get any sleep last night?”

“Yeah, did he? I’m worried about him,” chimes in John Laurens, scooting his chair past James Madison, who’s currently eye-fucking Thomas Jefferson, and joining in.

Aaron raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of them before responding, “He got maybe four or five hours of sleep, which is more than he did last night. Said he was having nightmares or something like that.”

“Oh, poor baby,” Eliza says sympathetically, glancing over at Alexander, who’s swiftly falling asleep at his desk, using his textbook as a pillow. “We should probably wake him up, though. I wouldn’t want him to get in any trouble.”

“Yeah, Ms. Taylor’s kind of a hardass,” John agrees as he pulls himself to his feet, making his way towards Alexander and squeezing his shoulder gently. “Hey, dude, you gotta wake up. Class starts in two minutes.”

Alexander yawns as he lifts his head, staring at John with wide, sleepy eyes. “John? Hi there.” He smiles wearily, taking a glance down at his textbook before looking back up into John’s eyes. “You look blurry.”

“Probably because you’re tired, buddy. Promise me you’ll get some sleep tonight? Like, I’m talking a solid eight to ten hours.”

“Yeah.” His voice is small and ashamed, but John ruffles his hair and leans down, kissing the top of his head just as Ms. Taylor, a nondescript blonde woman in a stylish navy-blue pantsuit, makes her way into the classroom. Returning to his seat between Eliza and Theodosia Barstow, he pretends to be hard at work, although he knows that Ms. Taylor can see right through his bullshit no matter what.

“Good morning,” Ms. Taylor says to the class, and they chorus back “Good morning, Ms. Taylor”, sounding like the angels that none of them (except for Eliza) are. “I trust that you’ve all read chapters twenty-nine through thirty-one?” Her students nod, and John digs through his memory, attempting to remember what even was in those chapters. Thankfully, mercifully, she doesn’t choose him as her first victim - she chooses that bastard Thomas Jefferson, although, unfortunately, his answer is flawless. As Thomas explains the structure of a seed, John’s gaze drifts to Eliza and Angelica, who are both staring at Alexander with lovelorn gazes. God, he’s gotten himself into such a mess, falling for a boy who’s head over heels for the golden girl of the school _and_ is constantly flirting with that girl’s gorgeous, brilliant older sister.

When Ms. Taylor calls on Alexander, he, of course, has all the right answers, somehow making the dry biology interesting, although John’s probably just so in love that he could be reading the back of a cereal box and he’d be enthralled, and, when he finishes, even Ms. Taylor looks impressed.

“Good work. You’ve clearly done your homework.” She gives him a half-smile, which is the most John’s ever seen from her, before moving onto her next victim, Maria Reynolds, who is prepared, but not as overly prepared as Alexander clearly is. When the bell rings, Angelica and Eliza head off to chorus, whispering to each other, and Alexander and John meet up with Lafayette and Mulligan, John’s arm sliding back around Alexander’s shoulders.

“Good job, dude!” he exclaims. “You actually impressed Taylor. That’s something I’ve never seen before.”

Mulligan shifts his books in his arms, raising an eyebrow. “That hardass likes him? Damn, he’s really on a roll today.”

Alexander’s face reddens, and they turn and walk into Mr. Washington’s classroom, a room that doubles as the debate room and honestly feels like a second home to John. When they enter the room, Washington is at his desk, hard at work grading exams from last week’s killer exam. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and he’s frowning, but, when he looks up, he gives them a small smile and a, “Good morning. Go ahead and take your seats.” Alexander turns, about to walk to sit by John’s side, but Washington stops him before he can sit down.

“Sir,” Alexander stutters, eyes widening. “I - what did I do wrong?”

Washington laughs, a deep and hearty sound. “Nothing. I just was rereading your admissions essay - it’s really quite wonderful - and wanted to encourage you to join the debate team. You really present a lot of strong arguments in your essay, and I think you would be a great addition to our team.”

Alexander beams, nodding enthusiastically. “Oh, I’m definitely joining, sir. My friends already encouraged me to join.”

Returning his smile, Washington replies, “That’s wonderful. I’ll see you at our meeting after school, then.” The other students slowly make their way into the classroom, and Alexander takes a seat at the front of the classroom, his eyes on the door as he watches everyone select a seat. Thomas Jefferson, holding onto James Madison’s wrist like he’s a small child, practically drags him towards the back of the classroom, as far away from Alexander as possible, and James sends Alexander a small smile before taking a seat beside Thomas. Maria Reynolds and Theodosia Barstow, chatting cheerfully about some new makeup brand that Maria found out about last night, sit in the front row a few seats away from Alexander, and Maria gives Alexander a close-lipped but beautiful smile, her lips deep red, before returning to her conversation with Theodosia. Finally, Aaron Burr, accompanied by a scowling, dark-skinned boy and a sickly and slender white boy, enter the classroom, Aaron’s gaze landing on Theodosia briefly but quickly darting away from her as he sits a few seats behind her, the two boys who walked into the classroom with him scattering and sitting on opposite ends of the classroom.

The class, in Alexander’s personal opinion, is far more interesting than the biology class that he just suffered through. Mr. Washington’s a phenomenal lecturer, and Alexander is already intensely interested in the subject of the Russian Revolution, but, somehow, this teacher has made him even more interested in the topic, if that’s possible. By the end of the class, Alexander is practically jumping in excitement at just how _intriguing_ the subject is to him, and the rest of the class is half-asleep.

The bell rings, and the other students in the class jolt awake, darting off to their respective next classes. Alexander falls into step with John, Lafayette, and Mulligan, his face lit up by glee.

“That was such an interesting class! Mr. Washington’s such a great teacher. I really look forward to my next class with him.”

John laughs, heading into the British literature classroom with his arm back around Alexander. “Damn, Alex, I didn’t know you were such a nerd.”

The first person Alexander sees when he walks into the classroom is Eliza, and all other thoughts leave his brain as he lays eyes on her, looking so beautiful with her hair falling in soft black curls down her slender shoulders and a wide, dazzling smile on her face. _God, she’s gorgeous._

John notices his gaze on her but doesn’t say a word, sitting in his usual spot between Eliza and Theodosia, draping his arms around them. “Hey there, _ladies_.” He tries to flirt, but he’s too head-over-heels for Alex to flirt with anyone but him, and Eliza is so much like a sister to him that it just feels forced. Thankfully, Theodosia and Eliza are both amused, laughing as he pulls them into an embrace.

“God, John, I just saw you less than two hours ago,” Eliza giggles into the scratchy fabric of his uniform sweater.

“Two painful, unforgiving hours,” he proclaims melodramatically, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head. “Really, though, it’s good to see your face.”

Blushing, Eliza pulls away, withdrawing her copy of _Macbeth_ from her pale pink backpack and setting it down on the desk along with her thick blue binder and a few ballpoint pens. “You too, John. How’s Alex holding up? I’m worried about him.”

Reaching over, John squeezes her shoulder comfortingly, reassuring her, “He’s been holding up fine. Don’t get too worried over him, baby girl.”

“ _Baby girl_?” she says with a laugh and a raised eyebrow. “Very cute.” She turns her gaze towards Alexander, still on a dreamy and wide-eyed high from the excitement of the last period. “What’s got Alex so excited?”

“The Russian Revolution, actually,” John informs her with a low laugh. “He’s very much a nerd.”

Eliza’s gaze is still focused on Alexander, her eyes lovelorn and as dreamy as Alexander’s are, albeit for a totally different reason, and John just laughs, grabbing his own book from his backpack and beginning to review his notes scribbled in the margins of the play, attempting to immerse himself in the poetic prose of Shakespeare to forget that one of his best friends is head-over-heels for the boy he’s falling for just as quickly.

It doesn’t work, though, and around five minutes later, John’s gaze is already wandering back to Alexander, at that soft black hair and that goddamn smile of his and those _eyes,_ those fucking eyes of his. He spends nearly the entire class staring at Alexander, even after Eliza, who’s probably just as in love with Alexander as he is, manages to tear her gaze away from him and focus on _Macbeth_ and not their very own Scottish tragedy.

The bell rings loudly, causing John to jump out of his seat and have to bite back a scream, and he throws his backpack over his shoulders and, upon seeing little Peggy Schuyler in the hallways, still looking a bit sickly from her illness a few days ago, throws his arms around her and pulls her into a warm, brotherly embrace.

“Peggy! How you holding up, short stuff? We were all worried about you.” He tousles her dark hair, and she scowls at him, but the irritated expression quickly falls from her face and gives way to a wide smile.

“Short stuff? You’re, like, two inches taller than me at the _most,_ ” she teases, and he pretends to be hurt, clutching at his chest as if he’s been shot.

“Two very important inches, Miss Peggy. And it’s not my fault that I’ve stopped growing and you’re just sprouting up like the cutest little weed.”

“Weeds aren’t cute,” she says, rolling her eyes and rushing to catch up with her older sisters. “I’ll see you later, John!”

John watches her rush off and immediately be embraced by her older sisters with fondness in his dark eyes, his gaze only shifting to someone else when Alexander approaches, followed closely by Lafayette and Mulligan. Alexander is pissed about something, his dark eyes wide and his face full of barely hidden anger.

“I _still_ can’t believe Angelica’s sleeping with Thomas fucking Jefferson,” he exclaims, his voice so loud that Angelica herself, several steps ahead of them, turns her head around and raises an eyebrow at him before returning to her conversation with her sisters. Mulligan elbows Alexander in the ribs, and he winces, rubbing his side.

“Holy shit, Alex, you do _not_ want to yell that in the middle of a crowded hallway. Don’t you know Angelica has a boyfriend? Like, a boyfriend she brings home to her father, not just the guy she fucks. She’d kick your ass if her boyfriend ever found it,” Mulligan hisses in his ear.

She has a _boyfriend?_ He looks back at Mulligan to make sure he’s not joking, but his friend’s expression is all too serious.

“I - who the _hell_ is her boyfriend?” Alexander manages. Mulligan lets out a short laugh, heading down the stairs and taking a moment before he replies, “John Church. Scrawny little genius, sort of like you, but whiter and nicer and richer. They’ve been dating since freshman year. They’re the golden couple, except for the fact that Angelica is screwing Thomas and poor little John Church has no idea.”

“Oh. Okay.” When they walk into the cafeteria, Alexander runs into Angelica Schuyler and Eliza Schuyler, both of them looking radiant and smiling widely. Eliza throws an arm around Alexander and Angelica ruffles his hair playfully, and he’s practically in heaven, if not for the fleeting but obvious upset look on John’s face, his gaze lingering on Alexander and the Schuyler sisters before he hurries up to catch up with Lafayette and Mulligan.

“Hey there,” Alexander laughs, pulling Eliza and then Angelica into a tight embrace. “How are you two doing?”

“Great,” Eliza says brightly, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “Are you feeling any better than you did earlier today? You still look so tired, Alex.” She frowns at him sympathetically, smoothing back his dark hair like he’s a child, and Angelica rolls her eyes.

“I’m fine, Eliza. Don’t you worry about me,” Alexander says with a small smile, kissing her forehead in such a sweet and tender way that Angelica, for a second, thinks that he just _might_ be good enough for her little sister, sweet Eliza, Eliza who goes to church every Sunday and wears a cross necklace, Eliza who spends her spare time tutoring disadvantaged children and playing with puppies, _perfect_ Eliza. Then, as John Laurens passes, Alexander sends him a lingering glance, one that’s definitely not platonic, and he’s back to not being perfect enough for her Eliza again.

Giving Eliza another sweet and almost chaste kiss, this one on the cheek, Alexander leans in and whispers something in Eliza’s ear that makes her giggle and blush, and, soon enough, he’s off, running after John Laurens and throwing an arm around him. Angelica notes with a hint of bitterness how close the two of them are, Alexander’s shoulder pressing against John’s and the two of them smiling at each other like they’re the only thing in the world.

“Angie?” Peggy’s soft voice brings her back to the present, and Angelica smiles radiantly at her youngest sister, whose cheeks are flushed and eyes are wide. Searching the room furtively, as if she’s being followed, she lowers her voice and whispers, “Theodosia Barstow’s pregnant.”

Angelica’s eyebrows raise and her eyes widen, but she’s just thankful that Peggy didn’t just say that Eliza was pregnant, although she’s honestly equally surprised, Theodosia Barstow being near-Eliza levels of sainthood in her book. Not that she’s judging Theodosia - she’ll probably make a great mother.

“How do you know that?” she asks her youngest sister carefully, moving towards the lunch line and selecting a grilled-cheese sandwich, a bottle of water, and an apple.

“Angie, she’s my roommate. I hear everything she says,” Peggy tells her with a dramatic but impressive eye-roll, putting a bottle of water, bagel, and bag of potato chips on her bright red tray. “Besides, I saw the pregnancy test. It’s positive.” She lowers her voice even more. “And apparently Aaron Burr is the father.”

Aaron Burr? Out of all people, he’s the one Angelica _least_ expected to be doing something as wild as fucking a girl who’s already got a boyfriend, although she’s not really one to talk. Still, she shushes her sister. “Don’t be such a little snoop, Peggy,” she says, watching silently as Eliza crosses the room, joining Alexander at his table instead of sitting with their usual crowd. Angelica wants to roll her eyes at her sister for ditching them, but she’s too busy worrying that Eliza will get her heart broken by the school’s resident tomcat for that to matter.

* * *

 _The end of the day can’t come soon enough,_ Alexander thinks halfway through AP Stat, his second-to-last class of the day. Not that he doesn’t love learning - of course he does - but he just can’t wait for the debate team meeting after school today. He can’t wait to fucking tear into jackass Jefferson, who probably couldn’t come up with a good argument to save his love, if what John has been telling him is true, which he doesn’t doubt it is.

Angelica and Eliza sit across the room, Eliza toying with her dainty silver cross necklace as she takes notes in her positively adorable puppy notebook and Angelica keeping one eye, it seems, on the rambling teacher and the other on Alexander, as if he’s going to jump up and kiss her little sister in the middle of the crowded classroom, although, all things considered, he can’t _really_ blame her for believing that.

The teacher’s rambling is eventually cut off by the bell, and Alexander, followed by Eliza, Angelica, and Lafayette, head off to French class, although Alexander isn’t exactly certain why Lafayette is even in French with them, as he knows everything there is to know about the foreign language. Their teacher, a rosy-cheeked and striking brunette woman who introduces herself to Alexander as Madame Beaumont before sending him off to sit between Eliza and Thomas goddamn Jefferson, instructs them in a voice tinged by a French accent, “Please take your seats and turn to the person beside you and talk about your day so far _en français. Merci.”_ She smiles gently at them, a smile that reminds Alexander all too much of Eliza’s smile, before retreating to the safety of her desk.

Alexander turns to Eliza to flirt with her in French, but she’s already talking to her sister about some movie, her voice in French lower than it normally is but sexy, so much so that Alexander is honestly surprised that he doesn’t get hard in the middle of his French class, in front of Eliza’s ferociously protective older sister and his pretty teacher and, of course, fucking Thomas Jefferson, who he’s barely spoken to but despises on principle.

“Thomas,” Alexander hisses, his contempt for Thomas barely veiled by false smiles or saccharine tones. “ _Qu'est-ce que tu as fait aujourd'hui_?”

Thomas rattles off an explanation in perfectly accented French about his very mundane day, and Alexander allows himself to drift off, his gaze focused on the slowly ticking clock. God, he just wants to get out of here as soon as possible so he can tear Thomas Jefferson to pieces.

“ _Et comment était ta journée,_ mon cher _Alexander_?” Thomas asks him with a low laugh, his voice still perfectly accented even as he rolls his eyes at Alexander, humming lowly as he waits for him to speak. Alexander looks Thomas straight in the eyes and delivers a perfectly executed monologue about the events of his day, going into far more detail than is necessary and drawing the attention of Madame Beaumont, who beams at him, ignoring the glowering Thomas as she says, “You must consider joining the French club, Alexander. Your French is perfect.”

The bell rings a few minutes after the wonderful Madame Beaumont allows everyone to switch partners and Alexander is finally able to whisper things in Eliza’s ear in thickly accented French that make her blush and giggle like a child behind her hand, and Alexander is running down the stairs towards Mr. Washington’s classroom as if his life depends on it, charging into the classroom and sliding into a seat in the front row, not caring that there are still a few stragglers from Washington’s last-period study hall hanging about, not caring that Washington is occupied with something on his cell phone, not caring about anything besides the fact that he has a place now at this school, that he has an actual purpose other than being the token scholarship student to make Lennox Academy look generous and good to its many impossibly wealthy benefactors.

Angelica, followed by goddamn Thomas Jefferson and his ever-present lackey, James Madison, are the first to enter the classroom (other than, of course, Alexander himself), Angelica smiling that brilliant smile of hers, that smile that makes his traitor of a heart leap with joy, and Thomas and James gossiping about some poor freshman.

“Angelica!” Alexander greets cheerfully, and, when she turns that goddamn smile of hers on him and actually squeezes his shoulder, he feels like he’s on top of the world. _Jesus, am I the bisexual stereotype embodied in a single human being?_ Still, he returns the smile, and she asks him, “How’d you fare on your pop quiz in English?”

“How’d you know about that? You’re in AP English.”

“I told you once that my sister tells me everything. I wasn’t exaggerating.” He smiles tensely, and he replies with a shrug, “It was fine. I’ve read _Macbeth_ a million times, so it was pretty easy for me.”

She rolls her eyes lovingly. “Why? Because he’s a fellow Scottish tragedy? You’re such a nerd, pretty boy. It kills me.”

Before Alexander can even begin to process the fact that she’s just called him _pretty boy,_ the rest of the debate team files in - John Laurens, Lafayette, Maria Reynolds, a few freshmen that Alexander has never seen before, and, judging by the adoring looks he’s giving Angelica, John Church.

Grabbing a clipboard and cocking her head, Angelica purses her red lips, making a few marks on her clipboard before she turns towards Mr. Washington to hand him the clipboard. He whispers something to her and hands her a small envelope, and she nods, taking the envelope and quietly handing it to Alexander with a soft, “Could you give this to your roommate?” before she takes her place at the center of the classroom and claps her manicured hands.

  
“Okay, everyone!” Her voice is clear and strong, but she’s not screaming, and, even though she’s said only two words, she has an engaging quality to her speech. “I hope you all had good breaks and didn’t get _too_ wasted.” Thomas, who is sitting in the back with James, laughs loudly, and Angelica rolls her eyes at him before continuing, “ _Anyway_ , the state competitions are in a few weeks, and, if we want to make it into the top ten, we have to whip ourselves into shape, and soon.” She moves towards the board, picking up a bright blue marker and bullet-pointing a few topics in her neat handwriting. _Illegal immigration, gun control, abortion, and vaccination for children._ God, Alexander knows exactly what he’s going to say. “These are our debate topics for today. I’ve taken the liberty of assigning everyone, including myself, groups for today.” She smiles sweetly at Thomas as he groans loudly from his seat in the back and continues, “For all three topics, I, Alexander, Lafayette, and John Laurens will be on the pro side, and Maria, Thomas, James, and John Church will be on the opposing side. Freshmen, please watch and pay close attention - you’ll be able to participate next meeting, so don’t worry.” Flashing another one of her charming smiles, she sets a timer for three minutes on her phone for each group to come up with their opening statement, and she pushes four desks together in the center of the classroom, dumping her backpack onto the ground and whipping out a thick notebook along with a blue ballpoint pen. For the next three minutes, they’re all a mess of ideas and words and arguments, and then, just as the timer blasting a Carly Rae Jepsen song goes off for all to hear, they have the perfect opening statement.

Thomas is good, irritatingly so. He waxes poetic about how the _true_ immigrants are the glue that holds this country together, makes it a fucking Shakespearian monologue, but dismisses all illegal immigrants with facts twisted in his favor, and it’s racist and shitty, but he’ll probably end up winning this argument, because he holds it together and keeps it under five minutes, instead of being like Alexander, who, as soon as Thomas shuts his pretentious mouth, snaps at him, “You must be out of your _goddamn mind_ if you think any of that was right,” before spitting facts at him and interweaving his own personal experience along with the cold, hard facts. It’s all very impressive, Angelica staring at him slack-jawed and his John beaming with pride, except it takes ten minutes instead of five - almost eleven, actually, but, at the ten minutes and fifty-nine seconds mark, Mr. Washington finally steps in and stops him, nodding towards Angelica to introduce her next topic. Maria Reynolds is clearly not pleased to be representing the anti-abortion argument, and, while Alexander can tell that she’s talented, he can clearly see that her skills are being stifled. His beloved John, of course, is wonderful, tearing apart Maria’s argument the moment they step into the center of the room but doing it with far more poise and far less anger than Alexander ever could. As Maria heads back to her unfortunate group and John returns victorious, Alexander slips into a daze, thoughts of his childhood forced out by his debate topic filling his mind. His _mother._ His mother, who sang him lullabies and shared his argumentative nature and his dark eyes and his dazzling smile and was the funniest, sweetest woman he ever knew. His deadbeat father, still alive, as far as Alexander knows, but not for the better. His _brother._ His brother, who he hasn’t seen in years.

Tears spring to his eyes, but, thankfully, everyone is too wrapped up in the vaccination debate between Madison and Angelica to even spare him a glance, and, for once, he’s happy not to be the center of attention. He focuses on Angelica, whose argument, of course, is perfect, just like her. Loyal, fierce, intelligent, _beautiful_ Angelica.

Holy shit, what’s going on with him? Idolizing Angelica, then giving her sister puppy-dog eyes and sweet kisses and sending her mushy texts, then flirting incessantly with John. What’s _wrong_ with him?

He doesn’t get much time to contemplate his many flaws, thankfully. The meeting ends sooner than expected, with a stern demand from Angelica to be there at exactly three-fifteen in this same room next Monday, and he’s hurrying off to his room, remembering the note from Mr. Washington that was to be delivered to Aaron, his prickly, standoffish, asshole roommate.

When he reaches his dorm, the door is opened just a crack, but still far more than it usually is. _That’s odd,_ Alexander thinks, but he doesn’t get much time to think, because someone’s yelling.

“Why are you acting so angry?” A high female voice, one that he recognizes as Theodosia Barstow’s. Her voice lowers, and it breaks as she says, “You said you always wanted kids.”

“Holy _shit_ , Theo! I didn’t mean right now! You don’t fucking _get it_ ,” Aaron exclaims, and something slams and Theodosia screams and Aaron’s apologetic from what Alexander can tell, whispering sweet nothings that Alexander can’t and doesn’t care to hear to Theodosia. When he calms down, his voice is composed, his tone sweet.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. I just - I don’t know how we’re going to do this,” he whispers, his voice cracking. _Could it be? Does Aaron Burr have actual emotions?_

“If there’s anyone who can do this, it’s you. It’s us,” Theodosia, who Alexander has decided is a saint for putting up with Aaron, says sweetly. “You’re going to be such a great dad.”

Alexander can practically hear the smile in Aaron’s voice as he says sincerely, “And you’re going to be the best mother.” He can hear that smile vanish as Aaron calls suspiciously, “Is someone out there?”

Alexander shrinks, feeling something akin to guilt as Aaron pulls open the door to find him standing right there, wide-eyed and probably dripping with sweat from being so nervous.

“ _Alexander_ ,” he sighs, like Alexander’s a naughty toddler and he’s his babysitter. “You could have knocked instead of lurking outside and eavesdropping.” He catches glimpse of the note in Alexander’s hands, and his eyes narrow. “What’s that?”

“It’s from Mr. Washington,” he tells his roommate, lingering awkwardly by his bed, where Theodosia sits, a hand resting against the barely noticeable baby bump that she currently has. Theodosia, noticing him, gives him a small, indulgent smile and moves to stand, but Alexander shakes his head. “No. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I - I’ll go.”

“No, it’s your dorm,” fucking Saint Theodosia replies, standing up and giving Aaron a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let you two talk. See you tomorrow, Aaron.” With that, the glowing, lovely Theodosia exits, and it’s him and Aaron all alone now, and he’s not sure if he’s going to survive the night.

Aaron sighs, pressing his fingers against his temples. “Sit down, Alexander,” he instructs, and Alexander complies immediately, taking a seat on his own bed and looking expectantly at Aaron.

“Holy shit,” Aaron says softly. Raising his voice, he tells him, “I can’t believe I’m saying any of this to you, but here goes. I’ve been with Theodosia since freshman year - about as long as she’s been dating Jacques Prevost, who’s probably the nicest person I know here besides Eliza Schuyler, which makes me fucking her while she’s dating him even worse. Anyway, as you know now, she’s pregnant, and I don’t know what to do.” He looks at Alexander, eyes shining with tears. “You’re so lucky.”

At that, Alexander explodes. “What the _fuck_ ? How am _I_ lucky? My mother’s dead. My father is a deadbeat who doesn’t give a shit about me. I haven’t seen my brother in years. Everyone in this school thinks I’m _immigrant trash, gutter scum, only got in here because of his sob story._ Every _day_ , I have to prove myself to someone new, and you’re just coasting along on your parents’ legacy and your inheritance, and your biggest problem is something out of fucking _16 and Pregnant_ while my biggest problem is constantly thinking about whether I should just off myself or not because everyone who I’ve _ever_ loved is dead? And I’m _lucky?”_

“ _You don’t get it!_ You have something to prove, but you have nothing to lose. _Nothing!”_

“How the _fuck_ is that a good thing?”

“If I fuck up once, my entire life comes crashing down. I have to constantly be careful, or else my entire world will fall apart. You can do whatever the fuck you want and everyone in this goddamn school still _loves_ you.”

“You’re so _privileged,”_ Alexander snaps, shaking his head. “Perfect little rich boy. It must be so _hard_ in your shoes.”

“Holy _shit_ , Alexander! It’s not all about _you!”_ Before he can stop himself, he’s crying angry tears, and Alexander, for a fleeting second, actually looks vaguely concerned, before his smug little expression returns to his face, and, before Aaron can stop himself, he’s telling his fucking asshole roommate, “I think about it sometimes, too. Killing myself. But, unlike you, _I’m_ not so selfish that I don’t stop to think that I still have people who care about me, who would miss me if I died. And you _do_ have people who would miss you if you died. Have you seen the way Angelica Schuyler looks at you? Or John Laurens? Or Elizabeth fucking Schuyler? People care about you. So don’t kill yourself to make a point.” He expects some sort of response from Alexander, but his roommate only stares at him with weary eyes before whispering in a hoarse voice, “Good night, Aaron,” and reaching over, turning the light off and ending the conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO BOY THAT WAS A DOOZY but i hope u enjoyed!


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HI I'M NOT DEAD LMAO also tw for suicide for this chapter

Aaron has been up all night with Alexander, desperately attempting to talk him down from whatever nervous meltdown he’s currently having, probably a result of a combination all those damn nights where he stayed up until four in the morning at work on his laptop and his admittedly shitty childhood, but it’s not working. He attempts to tease Alexander, which just makes him more upset, and then is soft with him, touching his shoulder, his elbow, even his cheek far more times than he’d like to, asking him if he needs anything, if he wants to talk about what’s troubling him, but that sends him into a fit of angry tears. Finally, he sneaks off into the bathroom with Alexander’s phone in his pocket, feeling totally resigned as he searches through Alexander’s contacts until he finds Eliza’s name, predictably accompanied by several heart emojis. Rolling his eyes, Aaron figures as he calls her that, if there’s anyone who can calm someone down during what’s almost definitely a panic attack, it’s gentle, composed Eliza Schuyler.

“Alex?” Her voice is sweet and girlish, and Aaron realizes just how in love with his intense and brilliant roommate this girl is, the two syllables containing far more emotion and affection than Aaron felt for anyone but Theodosia and their unborn child.  _ How does she handle it? How does she feel so intensely about everyone without falling apart? _

He shakes his head, biting back a sigh. “No, it’s Aaron.” He can picture Eliza in her dorm, perched on her bed in pajamas, or even hiding out in the bathroom like he is as to not wake Maria, furrowing her eyebrows at the strangeness of Aaron calling her. “Alexander is having a panic attack. I don’t know how to talk him down from it, and, since he told me that he thinks about killing himself a lot a few hours ago, I’m a little worried that, if I don’t calm him down, he’ll do something bad. Can you come talk him down? You’re the only one who could calm him down right now.”

Before he can even finish his sentence, Eliza is jumping in with, “I’m on my way. Keep an eye on him, Aaron. I’ll be right there.” She hangs up abruptly, and he returns to Alexander’s side, his roommate teary-eyed as he mumbles something about his mother.

“Hey, Alex.” He tries to make his voice gentle and comforting, but it doesn’t work, coming out strained and awkward instead. “I called Eliza. She’s coming. It’s going to be okay.” He reaches out to squeeze Alexander’s knee, but he flinches and shakes his head. “No, no. Not Eliza.  _ No _ . I can’t - she can’t see me like this. No. Not my Eliza.” His voice as he says her name is raw and emotional, but it’s full of so much love that Aaron can hardly stand it, and he jumps up, darting towards the door and awaiting Eliza’s entrance eagerly.

Sure enough, she’s there almost as soon as Aaron reaches the door, a soft blue robe thrown over her white camisole and dark blue sweatpants and her dark, thick curls tied up in a messy bun, and she gives Aaron a small and weary smile before moving towards Alexander.

“Alex,” she says softly, tenderly, and Aaron can practically see Alexander crumble to pieces in front of her, looking at her with wide, sad eyes and trembling hands. She sits beside him and she touches him with so much gentleness in her hands, but not as if he’s a fragile and easily breakable doll, and it seems to comfort him, some of the tension in his shoulders fading away and his tears slowly drying on his cheeks. “We don’t have to talk about any of this if you don’t want to, but, if you do, I’m here for you.” She cups his face in her hands and leans in, brushing an infinitely tender kiss against his temple, and Aaron’s heart breaks at how sweet she is with him. God, Eliza’s a fucking angel. How does she deal with him?

Alexander has managed to catch his breath, although his hands still shake as he rests them against his sides and then his knees, looking up at Eliza with admiring and adoring eyes. “You’re a saint,” he manages, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. “I - thank you.”

“I’m not a saint,” she says softly, although her little smile is truly angelic and does nothing to prove her point. “I’m a person just like you. Maybe you’re more prone to arguing than me. Maybe you’re more capricious and passionate than me, and maybe I’m more patient and calm than you are.” She’s got him down perfectly. God, she’s perfect. “But I’m no saint. I’m just a teenage girl, Alex.” She gives him that smile of hers and he falls apart, his own face softening as he reaches up and strokes her cheek gently.

While Alexander and Eliza get to talk, Alexander speaking in a soft, broken voice to Eliza about his childhood in the West Indies, Aaron slowly makes his way out of the dorm, feeling far too uncomfortable listening in on all of Alexander’s closely held secrets, and slips his phone out of the pocket of his sweatshirt and sending Theodosia a quick text.  _ Hey, you up?  _ He’s always been one for perfect grammar, even in texts, and find those who don’t use it irritating. She responses a few moments later with,  _ Yeah, but just about to head to bed. What’s wrong? _

He types out a quick reply.  _ Nothing. Go to sleep, Theo. God knows you need it. _

_ Are you sure, babe? You’re not usually up this late.  _ He frowns, hoping she’s not too concerned about him, before sending off another text.  _ My roommate was talking about killing himself. I couldn’t just go to bed after that. _

Theodosia sends him several sad-faced emojis accompanied by a,  _ That’s awful. Poor guy. Do you want to come over to my dorm if your roommate’s doing better now? Peggy’s fast asleep. Maybe we could talk about names for the baby! _

Even though it’s nearly two in the morning and Aaron is drifting in and out of sleep and he knows he’ll get in major trouble if any teacher finds out that he snuck into her dorm, he was willing to be a little wild for Theodosia.  _ Yeah, sure. Eliza Schuyler’s looking after him. I’ll be there in a few, Theo.  _

He looks far less put-together than he usually does, but he doesn’t care for once in his short life, sparing Alexander a brief sympathetic glance as he headed off to Theodosia’s dorm, a small smile lighting up his face.

***

Angelica hadn’t known about Alexander, brilliant and ambitious and argumentative Alexander, telling his roommate about how he was contemplating suicide until the morning after the whole fiasco, Eliza sending her a few somber texts about the whole situation, urging her to be gentle with him. Angelica knew that Eliza had good intentions, but her relationship with Alexander just wasn’t like that. It was constantly a battle of wits with them, and that was the way they both liked it. It wasn’t like Eliza’s quickly blossoming relationship with him, how she calmed him down and made him more patient, and it wasn’t like his friendship (bordering on romance, in Angelica’s opinion) with John Laurens, the two of them being willing to die for the other already and always having each other’s backs. No, it was something completely different, but still, as Angelica laid eyes upon Alexander in the hallway, scarcely able to meet anyone’s eyes or even start a fight with them, as she knew his  _ passion  _ was, she couldn’t help but look at him with sadness in her deep brown eyes.

She catches up with him, giving him a charming smile and squeezing his shoulder and attempting not to look too patronizing, too full of pity. “Hey,” she greets, her voice low and gentle as she looked into those goddamn  _ eyes  _ of his.

“Hey.” He swallows, glancing about the nearly empty hallway in an obvious search for someone, someone who’s probably Eliza. “Do you know where John is? He’s been texting me all morning.”

John Laurens? God, that boy was just as in love with Alexander as Angelica was, and she wanted to hate him for it, but she never could. He was too compassionate, too easily likeable, too lovely for her to even attempt to hate him.

“John? He’s down in the cafeteria already with Mulligan and Lafayette.” Spotting a clump of freshmen slowly making their way down the hallway, she lowered her voice, adding, “They’re really worried about you, Alex. You gave them a fright - you gave us  _ all  _ a fright.”

He sighs as if it’s not a big deal, as if him wanting to kill himself isn’t a problem at all. “It’s not as big of a deal as you all are making it out to be. I just said  _ one thing  _ in a fit of anger and suddenly Aaron is calling Eliza in and I’m humiliating myself in front of her and-” He can’t catch his breath, the words spilling out of his mouth in a frenzied rush, and he catches his breath, his eyes wide and his hands shaking. Angelica looks at him for a moment, her expression somber, before she reaches out and takes his hand, but that goddamn tenseness is still there, and his eyes are still shining with tears, and she wishes so desperately that there was something that she could do to help him other than hold his hand and give him sad eyes.

“Shh,” she says simply as she leads him down the stairs and into the cafeteria, where his friends sit, whispering to each other softly until they see Alexander hand-in-hand with Angelica. John jumps to his feet and runs across the room, pulling Alexander into a long and tight embrace.

“Holy shit, Alex,” he whispers against Alexander’s shoulder, catching Alexander’s cheek in one hand and looking at him with wide, heartbroken eyes. “You scared the shit out of us.”

“I’m so sorry,” Alexander whispers, but his eyes are focused on John’s lips, and he wants nothing more than to lean in and kiss beautiful, beautiful John.

John shakes his head, reaching up to smooth down Alexander’s wild, dark hair. “Don’t apologize, pretty boy. Just don’t scare us like that again.” He catches Alexander’s hand in his own and forces a bright, cheery smile for Alexander’s benefit. “Now come on, let’s get some food in you.” 

Alexander leans against him, eyes fluttering shut from lack of sleep, and soon enough, John’s arm is slipping ever so gently around his shoulder and, for once in his life, Alexander Hamilton is actually falling asleep.

John deposits Alexander gently into the open seat between Lafayette and Mulligan, who both look at poor Alex with concern evident in their eyes, and Alex leans his head against the comfortingly cool surface of the table, not caring that his friends are treating him like he’s a fragile and breakable object, a thing that can easily be broken, if it means he’ll get some damn sleep for once in his life.

Across the room, Eliza Schuyler is the perfect facade of calmness and serenity, fiddling with her dainty silver cross necklace as she makes her way towards the quickly growing line for breakfast. Out of all people, the one person she can’t help but hate, Thomas Jefferson, bumps shoulders with her, and she flinches despite herself at his complacent smile upon seeing her.

“Hey there, Schuyler,” he greets with a raised eyebrow. God, she can never figure out why her brilliant, confident older sister is screwing  _ him  _ of all people, especially when she has a boyfriend (poor, sweet John Church) and Thomas has, well, James, who may not be his boyfriend but certainly would take a bullet for him in a heartbeat. “How’s your boyfriend doing? Heard he tried to off himself last night.”

Eliza’s pretty face is the perfect mask of calm, but beneath it, there’s a storm brewing. How  _ dare  _ he refer to thoughts of suicide so callously? How  _ dare  _ he act so disrespectful, so rude, so utterly  _ obnoxious _ ? Still, she’s perfect Eliza Schuyler, so, practically by law, she’s not allowed to lash out or get angry. No, that’s Alex’s job, Angelica’s job.  _ Eliza _ has to smile through it all, act like the perfect little Christian girl. So she does. She fucking smiles at him, one of her patented Eliza Schuyler sweetheart smiles, and she replies in an even and composed tone, “It’s Eliza, actually. And he’s doing much better now. I really appreciate the concern.” Her tone sounds so sincere, so sweet that it takes even intelligent Thomas Jefferson a few moments to process that it’s actually sarcasm before his eyes narrow and he storms away like a little girl.

Eliza watches him go with satisfaction in her dark brown eyes, taking the time to observe every irritated word he whispers in the air of James, his loyal right-hand-man, every roll of the eyes he not-so-subtly casts her way, before returning to her table, fighting back the urge to run across the room to Alexander and ensure that he’s okay, that he’s  _ alive _ .

It’s better that she doesn’t look for Alexander, for, just as Eliza returns to her table, Alexander is fighting back a wave of tears at his own table, the concern and worry and  _ affection  _ from his friends all too visceral, all too real, for him to handle without becoming emotional.

“You should have told us,” Lafayette says mournfully, setting an apple and a miniature box of Cheerios on Alexander’s hard plastic tray, as if he’s a child that can’t be trusted to take care of himself. Although, judging by the last time he got more than three hours of sleep in one night, Lafayette’s probably right in believing that. “We could have helped you,  _ mon ami.” _

Alexander lifts his head from the table and shoots Lafayette an anxious smile, taking a bite out of the deep red apple and then a sip from his water bottle, much to the pleasure of his friends. “I’m sorry. I just - I’ve always felt like this. I’ve learned to manage. It’s okay.”

Mulligan shakes his head, infuriated, and snaps, “No, Alex, it’s  _ not _ . You need to get help. You need to talk to someone if you’ve been suicidal for the majority of your life.” Lafayette places a comforting hand on Mulligan’s shoulder, urging him to be gentler for the sake of fragile Alexander, and he calms down slightly, saying softly, “Sorry, man. You just scared us a whole lot.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” That’s a promise that, even while making it, Alexander knows he won’t be able to keep for more than a few days, but he still makes it nevertheless.

Lafayette swiftly and thankfully changes the subject, leaning in and informing them all with a cheerful look in his dark eyes, “The, how you, say,  _ semi-formal  _ is this Friday. Who are you all planning on taking?”

John’s eyes meet Alexander’s for just a moment, and Alexander lowers his gaze and blushes a deep scarlet, wishing that he could take John - not that he doesn’t love Eliza, he just doesn’t think that taking both of them would be considered socially acceptable in any form.

“You taking one of the Schuyler sisters, man?” Mulligan questions, swinging an arm around Alexander’s shoulders. “Which one will it be? Angelica or Eliza?”

Alexander can scarcely look at John, at the sadness dancing across his face. “Uh, Eliza.” He looks back up at Lafayette, who still grins as if he knows all of their secrets. Truth be told, it unnerves Alexander. “Who are you bringing, Lafayette?”

“My lovely Adrienne.” He sighs melodramatically, running a hand through his dark hair. “She’s a fellow exchange student. She is so beautiful and kind. You will love her, Alexander.”

Alexander wants to smile, but he’s far too focused on John, on his beauty and his kind, compassionate heart and how cruel Alexander is being by loving him and then tossing him to the side, to smile or even speak. John meets Alexander’s eyes for a moment, then looks away, tears filling his eyes.

Mulligan, noticing their friend’s obvious sadness, frowns, clapping him on the shoulder. “Something wrong, man?”

For a fleeting moment, John looks back at Alexander, the utmost love in his dark eyes. Then he shakes his head, forces a smile. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao i'm not dead my dudes! since i have spring break soon next chapter will hopefully be up very soon


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